Myself

By
Taking a day off from Heaven's enemy, Hell, or some like to call it, school, I have been hard at work disposing of the memories and items of unimportance that capture me and try to drown me day after day. A change is a necessity to my life. It is now time to let go of the thoughts concerning him, the words my father has said, the pictures produced from cheap ink that are fading away, and my unnecessary immaturity. Over the span of four months, the events that have occurred have created a strong, complex, and beautiful individual which I can now call Myself. I've fallen but picked myself up off the cold floor of depression and heartache, and I, now, want to see where the road I'm experiencing will lead. If you don't ever succeed in making a difference in at least ten people's lives, I can assure you that you've made a difference in one. You didn't even have to try, and that, my dear, is brilliance. In the previous days, I have learned that, in order to survive, a person doesn't necessarily have to conform to the rest of society's lies and cut-throat manners, but it will be harder for them. If a person chooses to be what he or she calls different, I warn them in advance. I'm sorry to say, but the production of accepting, fair people isn't similar to cancer. I'm not going to tread on the path of statistics, so heed to my analogy, though it may have been quite useless. An application on a universal website should not be used to measure the amount of someone's friendship. If an acquaintance insists on threatening the well-being of my life or a friend, that's what I will use as a measurement. Text-messaging should not be used to threaten or antagonize a person. I prefer a face-to-face conversation with a cup of tea. At least, after the insults and stupidity are finished leaking out, I'll have enjoyed a nice beverage. The word "confused" should be removed from the English language. I think of it as a pathetic substitute for "stupid". When a person admits to being a failure, please agree with them. If a person doesn't respect themselves; consequently, he or she does not deserve the respect of others until a change is made. I am not your toy. I'm not an item that can be set aside for later use. Being spontaneous and getting tattoos inspires me. I encourage spontaneity. Considering the fact that I do not believe in your god, do not pray for me. If you think that your god has helped me, and I do not believe in him; consequently, I'm not going to give him a credible high five if my life improves. My life improves due to my own actions. The word "politics" has a cringing effect on me lately. I did have an interest in it, but falling in my own personal belief, it has become similar to religion. People will kill each other over it, and my life will move easier without it. I'm applying all my strength to transform my regrets into nothing. I do not want to have regrets in my life; therefore, I do not regret telling you to walk away, I do not regret never taking your hand and telling you to come back, I do not regret not changing for you, I do not regret letting you use me, I do not regret choosing death over life, I do not regret telling you that you're a failure, I do not regret loving you, I do not regret regretting. Throughout the process of creating this beautiful work of art, or simply a note that a few people will read in their free time (I'm not going to force you this time), one person in particular has been running through my mind. I'm sure he's quite tired now. That lame statement probably lowered your IQ. This time, there are no clouds involved. As much as it hurts to express this, I believe the clouds are floating past, and I can not bring myself to grasp them. One day, maybe. Now, I'm afraid not. Presently, my grasp contains hash browns and The Cure. Difference has found me, and I'm grasping one in a million, or simply a lifetime. My mind is very intrigued as to where it's traveling, and it's seeing what the world chooses not to. Beauty in the unknown. Beauty in nonconformity. You've intrigued me, my dear. My journey is now beginning. It didn't begin four months ago, and it's not going to begin three months from now. It's beginning now. Some may take my hand, and some may simply try to erase me (but eventually the eraser runs out, my friend, and it also produces a foul smell). My face may appear lost, but my mind, my emotions, and my dreams are not. I have a desire to feel infinite, and if it progresses into potatoes and letters, I see no harm in it. After all, letters can be welcoming, and I absolutely love that starchy vegetable.





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